Look! No kids!

Here is a diversion from the main storyline, but I cannot help it. I am seduced by London without children. Anyway, I can claim this is a charitable act for Jaywalker.

My desirable male partner and myself - without children, note, that's no children present, none at all, not even a small trudging one at the back complaining about feet and wombats, no children at all in fact - my husband and I, being posh and free and childless for the day, make to the Tate Modern, like it's just a place that posh, free, childless people who care about art could go. On a whim. And we do. So here it is.


Apple core in front of a video of three blokes huddled and miserable in some rain.


Some bunk beds. There are lots of books chained up to the beds. Actually, I don't think the artist intended the chains between bed and book to be significant. Probably they hoped I just wouldn't look at them. The chains are probably functional to stop me nicking the books. I spend all my time obsessing about that. Then, because there are no children about, I develop a theory about the role of modern art in today's society and the probability of book theft.

Giant spider with polystyrene balls for eggs. You can see I haven't a picture for that. Probably my phone camera fell asleep with the dreary rain and bunkbeddery of it all.

Now off we go to somewhere else. Here is the River Thames.


Did you hear that? Just the schlap of waves. No-one is whining, constantly, interminably, myfeethurtmyfeethurt howmuchlonger myfeethurtmyfeethurt howmuchlonger yousaidtenminutestenminutesago myfeethurtmyfeethurt ...and on to infinitude or until Grit drinks vodka claiming it is water.

Absence of which means I can pause to take a picture of one of my favourite buildings in all London.


And one of the fountains in Trafalgar Square.


And a London pigeon. Little bastard. I hope it dies.

I bet you wish the children were around now, don't you?

Last one. The view from the hotel window.

London. And not a child of mine in sight.

Fantastic. Now, off to dinner.